


The Babysitter

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: Regina has a date, and due to unforeseen circumstances, she is forced to ask Emma to step in and babysit Henry for the evening. When things don't go to plan, she finds herself confiding in the last person she'd ever expect with some surprising results. Word-prompt short story. Rated M for later smut.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 281





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I have about fifty things I should be doing (updating THESE DARK PATHS being one of them- sorry if you're waiting for that!) but, it's my friend's birthday this week, and her birthday request was to give me a word-prompt for a SQ one-shot (although, if you've read any of my other stories, you'll know that I really don't 'do' one-shots, and this will end up being a few chapters long). I'll try to get this story updated and posted over the course of the week, so updates shouldn't be as long a wait as usual!
> 
> This is set in a similar timeframe/ setting as my ATTIC and PAINT short-fics; towards the end of S2 but without the canon storyline of Cora and Hook arriving in Storybrooke.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this intro chapter! Please review :)

"Henry, can I come in?"

Regina asks, standing in the doorway to her son's bedroom as he lies bent over his comic; sprawled out on his stomach on the bed with the back of his head to her.

Silence.

Thinning her lips with an irritable sigh, the Queen crosses the threshold without invitation and ignores Henry's insolence; fully aware that she has his attention in spite of his best efforts to pretend that she doesn't exist.

 _You're just_ grounded _, dear, it's not as though the_ world _is ending!_

Not at all, and she would go so far as to say that three days punishment could be considered a rather light sentence given the cost of replacing the sitting room window. If it had been an accident as the boy had claimed- just an unfortunate swing of the bat- she would have let him off with just a warning, but as she is _fairly_ certain that Henry's sending a baseball through the window had been the result of showing off to Ava, she'd decided to lay down the law a little more forcefully; if only to deter any further mishaps should he decide on a second attempt at juvenile flirtation.

_Gods, have mercy..._

"I'm going out at eight-thirty. Sydney should be here at about twenty past. I don't mind if you stay up until nine to read, but remember; no television while you're grounded."

Receiving no response, she turns away as Henry remains adamantly still, before smirking privately to herself when he grumbles at her to wait; unable to help himself from taking an interest after all.

"Are you going to the diner, mom?"

" _Granny's_?! No, dear. I think not!"

"... But it is a date?"

"It's... Dinner. Maybe a couple of drinks, but that depends on how things go."

"That's a date."

Henry sighs as he pushes himself up to perch on the edge of the bed to offer her a knowledgeable frown, and she splays her palms in surrender and goes back to leaning against the doorframe.

"Maybe it is."

She agrees.

"With Chris."

Henry replies with a wrinkle of his nose.

"With Chris."

The brunette concurs again, raising a brow when the boy pulls a face. She almost asks him what all the fuss is about- deeming it a little _rich_ for Henry to be disapproving of her decision to seek out some semblance of a love-life when he had all but _forced_ his _other_ mother into the arms of her one-time good-time-call with hopes of a blossoming romance- but it seems his uncertainty lies more in _who_ it is she's going out to see, rather than the fact that she's choosing to do so.

"He's not in the book."

Henry informs her as he pushes himself from the bed to pull the fairytale book from the top drawer of his desk as if to prove a point. There had been a time when he would have gone to great lengths to keep its pages a secret from the brunette, but now he holds out the heavy tome willingly and creates a space for his mother next to him on his quilt.

"No, I know, but then neither are a great _many_ people who live in town. The Curse brought over all that were affected by my reign... That's not to say that _I_ was affected by _them_. Only the stories that tie in with The Curse and its breaking are included in your book."

Regina reminds Henry with the dutiful note of apology she has learned it wise to inject into her tone when talking about such things with the boy or his family.

His _other_ family.

"But, Chris was a knight?"

"Christian, back then, and yes. Well, of sorts. He was a nobleman. His land and ours never shared any allegiance, nor threat, it was merely by chance that he happened to be assisting Midas on a personal request when my involvement with the Golden King was at its peak, and it seems that it's for this reason Chris ended up in Storybrooke along with Midas's men. As I'm sure you're aware from the 'getting to know each other' assemblies at school- one of Miss Blanchard's _brighter_ ideas- there are still a lot of residents that remain strangers to one another, and _some_ of them remain strangers even to _me_."

"I know, it's just weird."

Henry frowns, dragging out 'weird' in a way that reminds the brunette unfavourably of his mother.

"It's no weirder than anything _else_ that's happened since Miss Swan showed up in town."

She counters, and the boy nods in amiable agreement before looking up at her and wrinkling his nose again.

"But this guy just came up to you and asked you out? And you said yes?"

"It happens all the time to other people. Why is it so _traumatising_ for you that it should happen to me?"

"Because you were the _Evil Queen_ , mom!"

"I-"

"-I _know_ you're not like that! I just... It's weird."

Henry reiterates.

"Well, I'm sorry it's _weird_ to you that someone might seek out my company or find me attractive, but that's what's happened, and he's taking me out for dinner at half eight."

Regina snaps primly with an air of finality; brushing the creases from her skirt as she pushes herself from the bed and heads for the door.

"Mom."

Henry calls her back.

"Yes?"

"... I'm sure you'll have a nice time."

He smiles, before remembering his fury at the injustice of his incarceration and turning back to his comic with a sigh.

* * *

"What?! Well, can't you just _take_ something?"

Regina cries; one hand on her hip, the other gripping the phone to her ear as she glowers murderously at the starlings congregating on the branches of her apple tree.

"Right... Mmm... I see... No, okay. Fine."

She mutters in response to Sydney's grovelling apology, before turning around and slamming the receiver forcibly back in its cradle.

"Damn it."

She hisses, cocking her head to the side as she considers the unsurprisingly sparse list of contacts pinned up beside the phone.

"Mr Glass can't come?"

Henry asks through a mouthful of pasta; knowing his mother detests the act of eavesdropping, but imagining she'll let it slide given that he sits at the table less than three feet from her heated conversation with the ex-reporter.

"He's sick. Vomiting, apparently."

She replies, tacking on this last part with an expression that suggests she considers his decision to do so when she's requested his services to be _highly_ rude.

"Oh no."

"He'll live. He's most likely dru-... Eaten something that didn't agree with him."

"Mm. Probably when he was down at the Rabbit Hole."

Henry agrees, offering his mother a pointed look to remind her that he's no longer a baby and that he knows _exactly_ what she was about to say.

"Don't make assumptions, Henry."

She snaps.

"They make an ass out of you and me."

He replies dutifully, and she frowns, brushing her hair distractedly back from her face.

"They what?"

"It's a saying. Emma told me it. I thought you were going to say the same."

"I wouldn't do so using that language."

Regina scolds sternly, turning to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of sparkling water as she goes through her options out loud.

"I can't ask Miss Ginger. She made it very clear that doing me a favour was a one-time occurrence, and I have no wish to sound desperate. Miss Lucas is out, given that service doesn't stop until ten-thirty and she'd still have to clean up the place before being able to leave."

_Not to mention, the idea of letting the wolf slink and shed around my home is quite horrifying!_

"I'm almost _twelve_ , mom. I don't need a sitter."

Henry argues as he rinses his plate and cutlery beneath the tap and loads them into the dishwasher.

"Oh yes, you do."

Regina informs him bossily, watching as he helps himself to some of the apple pie she'd made earlier before adding a generous dollop of cream.

"But-"

"-No buts, Henry. I'm not leaving you alone at night."

"Fine... You know who you _could_ ask?"

The boy meets her gaze calmly as he reclaims his seat at the table.

"Who?"

The Mayor frowns, although she's fairly sure she knows the answer.

"Emma. You know, my _mom_."

"I don't think so."

The brunette sniffs with an elaborate grimace.

"Why not?"

Henry challenges her, and Regina sighs as she comes up short while striving to find a reasonable excuse.

"I'm sure Miss Swan has plans. It's very short notice."

She offers a little lamely, and Henry raises a brow as he licks cream from his spoon before adopting a dry, sarcastic drawl the Mayor blames entirely on the blonde in question.

" _Sure_ , like sitting up in her room pretending to read in order to avoid Mary Margaret and David being all romantic downstairs."

"She could _move_."

Regina shrugs unsympathetically.

"She knows, and she will."

Henry replies simply, before getting them back to their original topic and asking hopefully

"So?"

"... You're grounded. That includes not going over to Miss Swan's so that she can feed you icecream and let you watch some ridiculous movie with her until way past your bedtime."

"She could come here."

The boy reasons; undeterred.

"I..."

Pulling a face that makes it very clear just how she feels about _that_ suggestion, Regina studies the remaining water in her glass irritably; weighing up whether she'd rather cancel her plans for the evening or give in to Henry's wishes.

_And, subsequently, Emma's, which is something I'd like to try and avoid where possible..._

A small smirk as this unkind thought flits through her mind, but in all honesty, her bickering when it comes to the Sheriff is mostly for show these days, and she's fairly sure they _both_ know it. Just as Emma continues to pretend not to trust her with tiny, irrelevant things after quite _literally_ placing her life in her hands on more than one occasion.

It simply works for them.

It stops things from becoming too friendly; a ridiculous notion if you'd have asked her a few months ago, but nowadays the possibility exists.

And that simply won't do.

"Come _on_ , mom. Otherwise, you'll have to call Chris to cancel, and you were looking forward to this!"

Henry appeals in his sweetest tone, and the brunette frowns as she looks up at him.

"When did I say that?"

"Um, you're my _mother._ I can tell these things."

The boy rolls his eyes, and Regina turns her back to him as she takes her glass over to the sink with a small smile.

"I suppose it _would_ be _nice_ to get taken out. It's _certainly_ been some time."

"Gross, I don't need any more details."

Henry grins, and the brunette offers him a withering look before casting her gaze up to the ceiling with a dramatic sigh.

" _Fine_. I'll call Emma. She'll probably say no anyway."

* * *

"Yes?"

The blonde answers her phone after checking the caller ID with a small frown.

" _Yes_? Is that how you usually answer the phone when people call you?"

Regina snaps, and Emma falls back onto her bed with a sigh and points out

"The people calling me aren't usually _you_."

"Mm. Rude."

The brunette reprimands waspishly, and she's unsurprised when, rather than responding with further annoyance, she catches the Sheriff laughing beneath her breath.

"Maybe... Honestly, there's not usually many people calling me out of office hours, and when they do, it's generally because the town's in danger. I hope that's not the case?"

Emma asks; her tone suggesting that she'd not be particularly interested either way, before _another_ reason for the Mayor reaching out dawns on her and she asks a little more seriously

"Is Henry okay?"

"He's fine. Grounded, but fine."

"Yeah, he told me about that."

"When? He assured me he'd been sticking to the rules: school and then straight home."

Regina snaps, and the blonde catches the sound of their son arguing his corner in the background and rolls her eyes.

"We do _text_ , Regina."

"Oh... He never texts me."

"He _lives_ with you."

Emma sighs; refraining from sounding as dismissive as she usually might as she has come to learn that there are certain topics that actually _do_ upset the Queen beneath her irritable, purposefully snide exterior. Henry's previous attempts to distance himself from what was at the time an already flawed relationship is one of those things, and, while Regina more often than not does her _head_ in, she doesn't take any real pleasure in hitting below the belt so to speak. Remarkably, the darker woman appears to feel similarly these days, although her resolve to keep things civil arguably still needs some work.

"What do you want, Regina?"

Emma asks, playing a strand of hair through her fingers. She is met with a pause, and for a moment she feels her mood drop as she wonders what new and insane thing the Mayor plans to blame her for, before the reason for Regina's hesitation becomes clear; the truth refreshing, if a little surprising.

"I... need a favour."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And could you try not to sound quite so _smug_ , dear?"

Regina mutters, and the younger woman smirks wickedly before assuring her one-time nemesis

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Mm. I'm sure."

"I assure you, I-"

"-Cut the crap."

The brunette sighs, and Emma can almost _hear_ the Mayor cringe at her choice of language; not so much out of her preference for good etiquette, but because this little quip has almost _certainly_ rubbed off on her courtesy of the Sheriff herself.

" _Now_ who's rude?"

Emma asks pleasantly, and Regina groans before snatching back control over their conversation.

"Are you going to help me, or just _infuriate_ me? _Not_ that the two are mutually exclusive. You seem incapable of helping yourself with the latter, but I'd like to know whether you plan on being _vaguely_ useful at the same time."

"Well, you're certainly going the right way about asking _, that's_ for sure... What do you need?"

"I made plans to be out of the house this evening and Sydney was supposed to come and look after Henry, but it appears he's not well enough to do as he promised."

"How inconvenient of him. You sound very concerned."

"It is, and I'm not. He'll live, and my sympathy won't make any difference to his likely hangover. Don't go acting like _you're_ Mother Theresa all of a sudden."

"I'm surprised you know that reference."

"I know plenty, but that's beside the point. Are you willing to help me?"

"You haven't told me what you want yet."

"I'm sure you can piece two and two together!"

"Oh, I can, but I'd still rather hear you beg..."

Emma replies silkily, and Regina closes her eyes as she squeezes her temples, before taking in a deep breath and replying calmly

"Miss Swan, would you be a _dear_ and come over to mine for eight-thirty this evening to make sure nothing untoward happens to our son?"

"I _will_ be a dear, yeah."

The blonde agrees, yawning wide as she checks the clock and makes it to be just after seven.

"Thank you."

Regina replies, sounding more _irritable_ than anything else, and she hangs up the phone before the Sheriff can wind her up further.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Once again, I have overestimated my amount of free time, so my apologies that I am only getting this chapter up now! I'm going up to Scotland with my friend at the end of next week to camp out in the trunk of my car in the forest (I haven't told her this last part yet, I'm sure she'll be thrilled!) so I will try and get this finished before we head off :) No promises as I have some commissions to work on, but I'll do my best! :)

"You're on time."

Regina greets the blonde as she pulls open the door to let her in out of the cold.

"Why do you always say it like I've somehow grossly _insulted_ you?"

Emma grumbles, wiping her boots on the mat.

"I'm not insulted, I'm just surprised."

The Mayor counters, glancing up at the landing where Henry emerges from his room to offer the blonde a small wave before coming to a stop halfway down the stairs.

"And anyway, there's no _always_ about it. _Always_ would imply that I am frequently offered an opportunity to comment favourably on your timekeeping, and that's simply not the case, dear."

"Yeah, well, I'd have been _late_ if I'd thought it would have meant missing out on the joys of _this_ conversation."

The blonde mutters, and Regina narrows her eyes as she checks she has everything she needs in her bag; already dressed and ready to leave in her smart winter coat.

"Henry can stay up until nine, but no television or playing on his phone, and after that, it's lights out, understand?"

She glances up at the boy as she asserts this last part, and he nods dutifully.

"Fine by me."

Emma shrugs, doubting she will be met with much resistance on that front. The kid might have a sense of curiosity bordering on foolishly perilous, but he is not one to misbehave under more ordinary circumstances.

 _Something he must have inherited from Neal, as it certainly isn't a trait passed down by either of_ us _..._

The blonde smirks to herself as she toes off her boots with her hand pressed against the wall to steady herself.

"Where are you going anyway? Anywhere exciting?"

She asks with a glance up at the Mayor; sarcasm tainting her query as- when not in the midst of some curse or other- Storybrooke has little to offer in the way of excitement.

"Just out."

Regina replies vaguely, bending down to slip on a pair of expensive black heels she tends to save for special occasions. Her choice of footwear doesn't go unnoticed, and Emma raises an appreciative brow before opening her mouth in surprise when a crazy idea dawns on her.

"Wait, are you going on a _date?_ "

She asks curiously, earning herself a warning glower and a silence that pretty much speaks for itself.

"You are, aren't you?"

She persists, undeterred, and Henry speaks up to help her out as he slips past the women and disappears into the kitchen.

"She is."

He informs the Sheriff, who meets the darker woman's irritable glare with a grin.

"Well, you didn't tell me _that_ part! Who with?"

She pushes the brunette for more information; not ordinarily one to be nosey- especially when it comes to another's love life- but she has always found herself genuinely curious when it comes to the Mayor. Her interest comes from a remarkably well-natured place, and thus is something she tries to hide whenever possible.

 _It's just interesting to see how things have changed. What she did for Mary Margaret and I out by the well. How she is towards Henry and towards the others here, especially when they get fresh with her; she_ could _react in such a terrible, terrifying way, but she doesn't... Dealing with people's quirks and nuances can get boring fast, at least in my experience, but if there's one thing I've_ never _been around Regina, it's_ bored _!_

"Are you going to at least give me a name?"

She pesters when the Queen ignores her in favour of checking her lipstick in the mirror, and Regina frowns before turning back to the blonde and hissing

"Why? So that you can go flirt with them and turn them against me like you did the _last_ one?"

"...I mean, I _would_ , but my schedule is just _rammed_ right now."

Emma scoffs sarcastically, before pointing out in her defence

"And I never did _shit_ with Graham and you _know_ it! You were the _Evil Queen_ and you stole the dude's heart before crushing it when you were worried he might have taken a casual liking to someone else-"

"-My issue with the matter was more the fear of what the man might _divulge_ to you than it was... fear of what he might "divulge" to you."

"If you say so, but I still don't see how _I'm_ suddenly the bad guy out of the three of us. I was just _there!_ "

"Yes, well, my life's become a lot more _complicated_ ever since you decided to just 'be there', dear."

"Okay, sure. Maybe. But you got a free sitter out of it, so _I_ don't know..."

Emma mutters with a dramatic shrug, and Regina raises a brow as she offers her companion a withering expression and snaps

"He's your _son_!"

"Yeah, yeah..."

The younger woman agrees dismissively before getting the distinct feeling that she might be treading on thin ice and addressing the Mayor with a little more tact.

"I would do anything for the kid, same as you, I just meant this is kind of a formal arrangement."

"Is it? It was last minute, and you're wearing _that_."

Regina challenges, pulling her own coat tighter as she ties the woollen belt securely around her waist. Shouldering her bag, she gives herself one last once over in the mirror before heading out.

"You look nice."

Emma assures her, and the brunette glances back at her distractedly with a frown.

"I _know_ that, I just don't want lipstick on my teeth."

She snaps, before turning heel and heading out the door.

"You're so welcome..."

The blonde sighs as she pads towards the kitchen.

* * *

"You just press the blue button and then the grey and it will bring up a list of channels."

Henry informs Emma as he pushes himself from the sofa with an obedient glance at the clock.

"Thanks."

She smiles, although she doubts she'll end up watching much TV. Before coming to Storybrooke, she'd never had a great deal of interest in following any particular shows, but she had been quite keen on catching the occasional movie on the big screen with one of her ex-coworkers who had a season-pass making the experience free except for the extortionately priced snacks. Here, in town, the small theatre around the back of the pharmacy will occasionally project old films against the back wall and sell tickets for a couple of bucks, but she has never been sold on what's on offer, and has yet to make an appearance herself. TV is an even less exciting prospect in Storybrooke; every channel at least five years behind the rest of the world, and carefully culled of any current affairs, news and anything too fantastical that might once have inspired questions amongst the cursed residents.

_Oh well. It's not for long._

She muses as she bids Henry goodnight, although as soon as the boy has disappeared from sight, she feels a little uneasy as she looks around the room; feeling suddenly like a total stranger. She has visited the Mayor's house countless times over the last year- although the reception to her company has differed _vastly_ during that time- but she has visited the sitting room only once, and as she looks at the two doors set a few feet apart to her right, she realises she has no idea where either leads to, nor where the bathroom might be. Supposing she has nothing better to do, she pushes herself from the sofa to go and take a look, feeling strangely awkward in herself as she does so.

 _Get a grip,_ this _is_ nothing _!_

No, not in the grand scheme of things. She has a fair number of break-ins under her belt, so spending time in Regina's house unsupervised shouldn't even compare!

_But it does, sort of... It's weird._

Weird looking around at things her son sees every day that she has never seen before in her life. Weird standing back to catalogue the books and magazines shelved beside the television; a large collection of fashion titles and some gardening guides that somehow catch her totally off guard.

She considers the two, nicely framed landscapes that bookend the sofa and finds herself unsure where either of them has been set.

_In which fucking realm?_

Peeking behind each of the two mystery doors, she finds a cupboard housing cleaning products and storage containers behind one, and a small washroom behind the other; a couple of silk slips hung over the towel rack to dry, and she reaches out to touch one of the lace hems curiously before retracting her hand with a dubious scowl at herself in the mirror.

_What the fuck are you doing?_

Unsure, she heads back out and resumes her seat on the sofa; hands folded in her lap as she taps her foot awkwardly on the carpet before pulling her phone out of her back pocket and lighting it up in hopes of some inspiration.

Finding little of interest after a brief surf of the web, and sighing when she loses her game of Tetris, she scrolls through her contacts and calls Mary Margaret, but after a brief period of unanswered ringing, she is demoted to voicemail.

"What are you so busy doing that you can't even answer your _daughter_?"

She growls sarcastically, before _several_ ideas of what her parents might be doing with the house to themselves spring to mind and she shudders.

 _Let's not revisit_ that _question again!_

She pulls a face, rubbing at her arms as she shivers; this time due to the cold air being let in through the broken window. A large square of tarp has been pinned over the opening, layered beneath a blanket which has presumably been added to stop the wind from buffeting noisily against the canvas. Still, this does little to ward off the chill, and Emma pulls her jacket closed over her chest and bounces her legs but finds neither solution offers much relief.

"Could have warned me..."

She grumbles, but, she supposes she'd known about the window after Henry had messaged her to complain about the injustice of being grounded over what he claims was an accident, and she can't imagine her comfort was at the _forefront_ of Regina's mind when asking her over last-minute to babysit.

 _To be honest, I'm surprised she_ did _ask me..._

Emma muses, before frowning when she imagines the brunette's choice in the matter will have been slim, and she sighs as she is once again struck by a strange wave of affection for the cruel-tongued Mayor in spite of their frequent spats. She just finds it a little sad that Regina's unveiling as her true self has only served to ostracise her all the more, and while she imagines she might feel a little less sympathetic had she been around for the darker woman's brutal reign and threatening to curse an entire kingdom, she can't help but have a soft spot for the Mayor; one that she keeps _very_ much to herself.

_She's just really not that bad..._

No, and Regina makes her laugh. Not always on purpose or willingly, but she does, and that's something the blonde has found refreshing when dealing with the aftermath of The Curse and the subsequent crap of the last couple of months.

 _It's_ rarely _willingly..._

She grins, giving up on trying to stick out the cold and making her way into the kitchen.

It's warmer in here, but not by much, and she scolds herself for heading out in just a t-shirt beneath oxblood leather now that the weather has truly turned for the worse.

_In my defence, I've never been here before without the heating set to high or a fire blazing in the drawing-room!_

The drawing-room; a room she is far more familiar with as it is where Regina will usually make her acquaintance if she's asked her round for any reason, which only now occurs to the blonde as she leans against one of the kitchen counters and studies the narrow crescent of the moon. She imagines that most of the house is ordinarily off-limits to guests; something she can well understand, but that serves to bring up a point she has been trying to push away whenever it jumps out to confront her.

 _Is Regina a friend? Am_ I _in_ her _eyes? Am I a_ guest _here, or am I her friend?_

She would guess that the answer to the latter is a resounding 'no', but as for how _she_ sees their relationship, she's a little less certain.

"What does it matter, anyway?"

She mutters gruffly, before her attention wanders over to the door to the utility room and she adopts a bemused smile. Padding over and poking her head through the door, she finds what she'd thought she might; fresh laundry, neatly folded and ready to be taken upstairs.

 _Well, taking something of hers to wear might be considered_ slightly _less weird if she_ were _a friend!_

Perhaps, but she doubts it's something Regina would _ever_ be ecstatic about.

_That makes two of us._

True, but the thought of sitting around for who knows how long shivering doesn't really appeal to her, and so she pilfers through the folded garments as she tries to answer the next conundrum.

_Is it weirder to wear something of Regina's or something of Henry's...?_

Personally, she can't see anything all that strange about wearing one of the kid's sweaters, and has done so several times when out and about in town with him; Henry at that magical age where the cold seems to be a mythical concept rarely experienced or acknowledged. She just wonders if Regina will see things the same way; the brunette finally content to allow her the term 'mother'- _when suits her, anyway!_ \- but still a little testy about certain things.

 _A_ lot _testy. About a_ lot _of things._

Again, Emma smiles; so used to the crazy dance enforced between them by the Mayor that she no longer finds anger where she once had and instead finds herself mildly amused.

"Well... There's probably no _right_ answer here, anyway."

She consoles herself, shucking her jacket which offers little in the way of comfort or warmth- not that she'd care to admit to such a thing- and pulling on a black woollen sweater from the pile. It fits her a little more snugly than she would usually choose, but seems otherwise unoffensive, and she wrinkles her nose before she guesses she might as well go nuts and incur the full extent of Regina's wrath as she helps herself to a pretty, scarlet cardigan to slip on over the top of her stolen attire.

_Well, surely this is better than waking the kid up to ask him how to turn up the heating!_

Yes. Surely.

Nibbling her lip, she pads back out into the kitchen; observing her hazy reflection in the glass of the window, before heading out into the hall for a better look in the large mirror by the door.

It's an odd ensemble, particularly when paired with her jeans, but she does feel a great deal _warmer,_ and she can't see how donning a couple of pieces of clothing will do anyone any harm.

_Oh, Regina will tell you how, don't you worry!_

Smirking to herself, she wanders back towards the kitchen where she opens the door to the fridge. She isn't particularly hungry, but helping oneself to the home owner's treats is a subplot of pretty much _every_ babysitter movie she's ever watched, and she's never been one to turn down a snack.

 _If this_ was _one of the babysitter movies you've watched,_ you _would be the snack... Or find yourself one running around screaming with half her clothes off..._

Raising a brow as she inspects a jar of olives, she supposes most of the movies she's seen featuring her current role have been horrors, and not especially _good_ ones at that.

_So maybe my expectations are a little crass._

Not for the first time, and she sighs as she concludes most of the Mayor's food to be unappetizingly healthy, before spotting a half-eaten pie behind a couple of pots of pro-biotic yoghurt.

_Bet that's apple..._

Pulling out the dish and giving it a cautious sniff, she discovers she's correct, and she feels momentarily unsure as she studies the pie with a nervous giggle.

 _Are you_ really _going to trust something involving Regina and apples?_

"Well, _someone's_ eaten some of this and lived..."

She murmurs, supposing that the brunette does still kind of _owe_ her some home-baking after the last batch she'd offered her had nearly killed their son, and the rest had been taken into evidence by Whale.

"You're going to look so stupid if you get poisoned..."

She sighs, helping herself to the canister of cream in the fridge door. Grabbing a fork from beside the sink, she scoops up just a sliver straight from the dish in order to test it; waiting for a moment with the sweet filling on her tongue, before pulling a bowl down from one of the cupboards when she senses no deterioration in her vitals.

"Idiot."

She scolds herself, applying a liberal lashing of cream. Sitting at the table to eat, she tries to ignore the eery stillness as the ticking of the clock above the door seems insanely loud. A low rumble of thunder has her jumping in her chair and she rolls her eyes at her own expense as she finishes off her slice of pie and rinses the bowl off in the sink. Deciding to find refuge in more familiar territory, she turns off the lights in the sitting room and kitchen and makes her way into the drawing-room where she will occasionally discuss matters with the brunette. Twice now, they have even sat opposite each other on the Mayor's sofas and shared in conversation _not_ pertaining to the immediate fate of the town, and, while both occasions had been rife with snide comments and sly digs at one another, they had actually been strangely enjoyable, and she doesn't believe she's alone in thinking so.

 _It's just nice to have someone to talk to where new, post-Curse-breaking introductions haven't had to be made as we feel each other out. I know exactly what I'm going to_ get _with Regina, which is usually a headache, but there's no need for niceties and small-talk and that's kind of a relief._

Entering the darkened room, she takes a moment to watch the driving rain and flicker of lightning through the window, before finding the lightswitch and heading over to pull the curtains closed. She spares a brief thought for if Henry might be awakened and spooked by the storm, but she has had the boy stay over enough times to know that he will sleep through _anything_ once claimed by the Sandman.

Taking up her usual seat facing away from the door, she considers the empty hearth before pushing herself up and stacking a couple of logs from the pile to the side onto the grate. She does so more for something to do than due to any lingering sense of cold, but the warmth of the flames that spark to light and grow to bathe her face with light as she remains for a moment on her knees is pleasant, and she closes her eyes and allows her cheeks to grow hot.

" _Ah_!"

Her eyes shoot open as one of the smouldering logs crackles and spits crimson embers in her direction; swiftly shuffling back and pulling the guard into place while thanking any interested deity that while a couple of flecks have landed on her jeans, the Mayor's sweater and cardigan seem unharmed.

"Still, better safe than sorry..."

She mutters as she removes her borrowed cardigan and goes to place it over the back the brunette's desk chair. In doing so, she passes the liquor cabinet, and she stands for a moment with her hand on her hip and her brow furrowed as she tries to decide whether helping herself would be pushing her luck.

_I mean, I'm pretty sure that's just another common plotline when it comes to babysitting... No?_

No argument from the deserted room, and so she opens up the wooden doors and bends down to assess their previously hidden contents. Selecting a half-full bottle of spiced rum, she places it on the low coffee table between the sofas before disappearing into the darkened kitchen to fetch a glass and some ice. Returning to the drawing-room and settling down on the sofa, she pours herself a generous serving of rum and decides to take inspiration from her unlikely evening; using her phone to search for one of the old babysitter horror movies from the early nineties she remembers laughing at with her old housemate. Finding a link and falling back against the cushions, she brings her knees up in front of her and rests the hand holding her phone against her thigh, while the other works her glass.

She is about three-quarters of the way into the movie- and a little more when it comes to the rum- when she hears the front door open and close, and she glances up at the bottle on the table and the logs burning in the hearth a little uneasily as the click of the Mayor's heels sound down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you all had a good weekend! Enjoy :)

"Emma?"

Regina calls with a frown as she stands in the threshold of the deserted kitchen, the sitting room beyond clearly just as dark and devoid of life.

"Here."

The blonde replies, and the Mayor's brow furrows deeper as she turns around and makes her way over to the drawing-room.

"What are you doing in _here_?"

She asks as she lets herself in, before taking in the burning logs in the hearth and the bottle of rum close to empty on the table. Emma appears to catalogue these gross displays of overindulgence in tandem as she slowly- _sensibly_ \- lowers her feet from the sofa and assumes a slightly less slobbish position.

"I got cold."

The Sheriff replies, leaving out the fact that sitting in the unfamiliar sitting room had kind of given her the creeps. After all, she's telling the truth.

"I can see that..."

The brunette growls; recognising the sweater the younger woman wears as her own with a sense of utter disbelief that serves to numb what might usually be anger.

_I'm just shocked that she would have the audacity to help herself like that!_

"Oh... Yeah."

Emma offers lamely as she looks down at herself, and Regina rolls her eyes as she supposes she really _shouldn't_ be shocked at the blonde's lack of boundaries and appropriate behaviour. As if on cue, a breathy moaning sound comes from the younger woman's phone, and Emma meets the Mayor's gaze for just a second before promptly blackening the screen.

"What _are_ you watching?"

Regina asks tersely, and the blonde pulls a face as she pockets her phone.

"Honestly, I'm not even _sure_ at this point. One girl's showering- badly! Like who soaps themselves like that?- in the middle of a massacre in the ski-lodge that these two kids randomly live in, while another's sneaking her boyfriend around who showed up around murder number two. No one's seen the kids for a while, and there's some sort of blizzard keeping everyone stranded, although it doesn't _actually_ appear to be snowing."

"... I'm sorry?"

"A movie that's not going to win any awards."

Emma elaborates, looking up at the Mayor who stands in the doorway with her arms crossed watching her expectantly.

"So? How was your date?"

The blonde asks when it seems Regina doesn't have any more questions pertaining to Babysitter Massacre 5.

"It's late."

The brunette replies pointedly, and Emma takes the hint and begins to push herself up off the sofa, before reconsidering her question from earlier as to how exactly the Mayor sees her. Leaning back against the pillows, she studies her host pensively.

"It's _not_ , though. Not really. I thought you would be gone a lot longer."

"The restaurant closes at eleven."

"It's ten-thirty."

"Miss Swan-"

"-And the Rabbit stays open until _three_ on a Saturday. I know it's not really your scene, but if a date's going _well_ , then..."

"It's not really any of your business, is it?"

Regina snaps, and Emma offers her an agreeable nod as she accepts this response, but doesn't back down.

"You guys just didn't connect? Or-"

"Sheriff, what did I _just_ say?"

The brunette hisses irritably, but she makes her way further into the room and takes a seat on the sofa opposite the blonde so that she can slip off her shoes with a wince.

"I heard you well enough, and it _isn't_ my business, but I figured any date lasting under two hours probably didn't go so well, and that's too bad... Maybe you wanted to talk about it."

"What, to _you_?!"

Regina laughs snidely, and the Sheriff simply holds her gaze with a calm expression before pushing herself up and heading over to the liquor cabinet.

"Why not? What do you want?"

"Miss Swan, I-"

"-If you don't answer, I'm going to have to choose for you, and-"

"-Emma!"

The darker woman snaps, and the blonde turns back to face her with a sigh.

"If you want me to go, I will. I was only trying to be nice. _Weird,_ I know, but there you go. I know we don't really talk about real-life stuff and what we get up to day to day- sure, you like to make presumptive _comments_ , but you've never actually _asked_ me what I might have done over the weekend- but I'm offering... And, I mean, my last date consisted of wearing a soiled dress and punching a guy, before being gatecrashed by my long-lost son, so... I'm not especially _judgy_."

"That wasn't a date, that was just work. Henry told me."

"Ok, sure, but if you want to talk about my last _date-_ date, that's going to take me a while to think back and remember!"

"... Really?"

"Yeah. So maybe discussing yours might be easier as it doesn't predate the invention of the iPhone."

"I don't know..."

Regina frowns, not exactly _enthused_ about the prospect of discussing her love-life with the Saviour and one-time rival for another's affection.

 _Oh, stop. Emma's right, and you_ know _it. What happened with Graham had very little to do with those two getting grossly cosy, and she's made it quite clear since that her main motivation in that mess was winding you up. Her interest was more in_ you _than the late Sheriff..._

_Oh. Gods._

_Well,_ that's _certainly a terrifying thought when worded that way! I mean, can you_ imagine? _! I-_

"-Okay, look, I'll leave you to it. I just thought maybe you'd want to vent."

The blonde interrupts her inner- _highly disturbing!_ \- monologue with a sigh; reading her hesitation as dismissal.

"Gin."

Regina speaks up quietly as Emma pads for the door.

"Huh?"

"Gin. Over ice, and there are limes in the fruit bowl on the windowsill in the kitchen. Tonic's in the fridge."

"Okay then."

Emma smiles, disappearing for a moment before returning with a large bowl filled with ice and topped with a sliced lime, the tonic, and a clean glass. Setting everything down on the coffee table, she selects one of the two gin bottles from the cupboard and brings it with her as she falls back down onto the sofa.

"Ugh..."

Regina sniffs as she watches the blonde knock back her remaining rum in order to make room, and Emma shrugs as she goes about filling both of their glasses with ice from the bowl before pouring in a few fingers of gin, a splash of tonic and adding a slice of lime to each.

" _Must_ you use your hands?!"

The Mayor sighs, but she leans forward and accepts her glass and takes an experimental sip.

" _Oh_ , that's strong!"

"Sorry, I don't usually add tonic at all."

"That's _disgusting_."

"And so, not really very surprising to you?"

Emma proposes sweetly, and she receives an irritable glower as the brunette nurses her drink; certain that Regina would have said something along these lines if she hadn't beaten her to the punch.

"Mm. Are you going to take off my sweater at any point, dear?"

"Are you going to take off your coat?"

The younger woman counters, and the Mayor places her glass down on the table with a scowl.

"I fail to see what that has to do with my question."

"Not a whole lot, but... Okay. _Should_ I have dressed more appropriately when leaving the house given the weather? Yes, that's on me. It's warmer in here, and if you insist, I'll give you your sweater back. You sitting around in your coat though just kind of makes it look like you're gearing up to dash out at any second, which, I get, especially given your company, but I would remind you that this is _your_ house, so its a little weird."

"... Keep it."

Regina sighs eventually, gesturing to the blonde's borrowed sweater, and she stands up to undo the belt of her coat.

"No, it's not my style, and it's definitely not cheap, so I would feel odd doing that- and a little offended that it should be necessary!- but I'll take it home and wash it as evidently this whole deal is _majorly_ gross and traumatic for you."

"Evidently."

The brunette agrees, in no way about to divulge to the Sheriff that she actually thinks the black cashmere suits her nicely. Removing her coat, she folds it neatly and lays it over the armrest of the sofa, before looking back up with a frown as she catches Emma studying her with a strange expression.

"What?"

She demands, and the blonde shakes her head slowly, before seeming to snap out of it and offering her a sly grin.

"No, nothing, it's just I think we can safely say that your date ending badly has very little to do with what he might have made of your outfit."

"It didn't end _badly_ , and of _course_ it wouldn't have anything to do with that."

Regina thins her lips as she reclaims her seat with care to keep her dress from riding up her thighs; the heavier blend of the fabric working in her favour where the cut offers up a little more flesh than she would usually have on display. Still, she finds herself privately pleased by Emma's flattery; never doubting her appeal as such, but she knows that compliments aren't common from the prickly young woman, and the blonde is one of the few people she trusts implicitly to speak the truth.

_Really?!_

Yes, in the current context, she supposes so. She has never given Emma any reason to feel obliged to shower her with praise, and so when the younger woman _does_ offer her an opinion, especially a _positive_ one, she doesn't find herself doubting it or looking for any hidden agenda, which makes a pleasant change from her interaction with most others.

"He said he liked my dress."

She allows in a queerly prim voice as though speaking of something forbidden, and Emma nods as she takes a sip of her gin and opines boldly

"I'm sure he _did_. Just as I'm sure you know that when men tell you they like your dress that's not where they're _actually_ looking."

"Miss Swan, don't be _crass_!... Maybe the men _you_ dabble with behave in such a way, but not _all_ of us have such low standards."

"...So you're saying he had no interest in what was underneath?"

"I'm saying... I..."

"Yes?"

"Well, of _course_ , he did, but it's not exactly appropriate to _say_ so!"

"Terribly vulgar of me, I'm so sorry, Your Majesty, but no less _true_ for it. Hell, in that dress, _I'm_ a little interested in what's underneath."

"Miss Swan! I-"

"-Of course, as we just discussed, my standards are awfully _low_ , so... Figures."

Emma shrugs with a smirk which only widens when the brunette appears to struggle to find a response.

"How much rum have you had?"

Regina asks finally, not quite hitting the mark in her aim to sound bossy and unflustered, and the blonde meets her gaze easily and shrugs.

"Not enough to go saying things like that without meaning them. But, relax, I only meant it in a friendly way. Nothing weird."

"Friends don't joke about seeing each other naked..."

"I'm not sure either of us has enough experience to really _know_ what friends do or don't do... Are you saying that's what we are?"

"I..."

"And it's not like the thought's never been reciprocated, so it's _really_ not a big deal."

Emma reasons, and Regina narrows her eyes as she insists firmly

"I can _promise_ you, the thought has _never_ entered my head, dear."

"Oh... Well, _now_ it's awkward."

The blonde sighs, her expression hard to read, but the Mayor pays little attention to this curious reaction to her rebuttal as she finds herself currently lost in her own uneasy thoughts; the younger woman's flippant teasing sewing a seed of doubt, as she finds herself recalling several of her nastier remarks thrown the Sheriff's way that had been just a little _flustered_ behind their intended sting.

"Well, if seeing you all dolled-up didn't put him off, what _did_ happen tonight?"

Emma asks finally, and Regina rolls her eyes at the very notion of the younger woman's suggestion, before responding with a sigh.

"It was fine, honestly, just... Well, that's about _it_ , really."

"Hmm, not a _glowing_ review of a first date, no."

The blonde agrees as she tops up their glasses; paying no notice to the hand the Mayor holds up to deter her and instead adding an extra-generous glug of gin to the darker woman's glass.

"Emma..."

" _Regina_..."

"Ugh, you're as bad as Henry with that."

"Well, we both know it annoys you, and I'm _definitely_ much better than him at _that_."

"Hmm. True."

"So?"

"I already told you; I don't _know_. It was just... Awkward? I'm usually _good_ at making a first impression-"

"-Ha!-"

"-I said _usually_! I saw no point in _trying_ with _you_!"

"Charming."

"Yes, that was the _problem_!"

Regina growls.

"Hmm... I don't hate that, it was kind of clever. Go on."

"I don't know what more to _say_! We talked, we ate, we shared some wine... It was... Pleasant. I just... I felt there was something _there_ when he first decided to talk to me, and tonight it just... There was nothing."

"You think he lost interest?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"How _foolish_ of me, I-"

"-I don't think _he_ was the one with the problem."

Regina admits, putting an end to any further bickering, and she takes a sip from her rather full glass as she looks to the Sheriff for any useful comments the younger woman might have stashed away.

_Has it come to that?!_

"I see... I guess he's not a King or a Prince, so-"

"-So what?... You do _realise_ I don't care about that kind of thing anywhere near as much as you think? I'm really not _like_ that when it comes to people, I-"

"-Ummmmm! You have literally never _not_ made some comment or other about my past and how beneath you I am."

"Yes, well, that was _you_. I had no interest in dating _you_."

"I don't know; little boys pull the pigtails of the little girls they secretly like out in the schoolyard... Little girls sometimes do, too."

"... I trust you're not stupid enough to take that analogy and namecalling any further, dear?"

"Stupid, no. But that last part was speaking from experience."

Emma confides, and the Mayor clears her throat as she retaliates

"And you _wonder_ why the comments I make about you are so often disdainful..."

"They're often disdainful, and they're pretty much _always_ judgemental. I stopped trying to argue my case because it became evident that trying to do so was pointless, but it doesn't mean you know me like you claim to. In fact, you _don't_ know much about me at _all,_ because there's only so many cruel remarks veiled as dry-humour I can take before it gets old and it's no longer fun for me... I didn't make that comment about dating royalty to be _mean_. I genuinely _don't_ know how it works given that you were the Queen. The book doesn't exactly have footnotes _explaining_ that kind of thing! It wasn't a dig at you."

"Okay."

Regina replies a little uncomfortably, frowning down at her glass as she has never actually had Emma _tell_ her that she's affected by her barbed comments before. She supposes that is, of course, her reason for making them in the first place, but it suddenly doesn't feel all that fun for her either being called out.

"... It's not your fault."

She sighs finally, and Emma glances up at her curiously.

"Huh?"

"It's not your fault that you don't know how things worked in the Enchanted Forest. If anything, it's mine."

"I mean, if _everything_ , it's yours."

"... It would be custom for a Queen to court within her social circle; within her status. That said, given the example set by your parents, your grandfather- my late and very much unmissed husband- and at _least_ five other members of royalty I can count just off the top of my head, it stands to reason that our customs might not be _obvious_ to an outsider."

"I guess David and Abigail; that was kind of how I thought it all worked?"

"That _is_ how it was supposed to work, and you know how happy _they_ were... It's an antiquated tradition, and while I am proud, and I took my position as Queen very seriously- _barbarically_ , but seriously- I'm not blind to there being better ways to go about certain things. It doesn't matter to me if someone is of royal blood or not, it's not as though any sort of union will bring together kingdoms and end war or famine as it might have back in the Enchanted Forest. It matters to me that I _enjoy_ my time with them and that they spark my _interest_ , and tonight, that just didn't happen. Honestly, dear, I'm enjoying my time spent talking to _you_ more than I enjoyed making small-talk with Chris."

"I'll bet I'm far better looking, too."

"... How would you know? You have no idea who he is."

"I don't, and I was joking, but I have to say... Not quite the immediate defensive argument and _repulsion_ I was expecting there."

Emma raises a brow suggestively, and Regina rolls her eyes as she fusses with her dress distractedly; feeling a little flushed which she blames firmly on the gin and nothing else...

 _Miss Swan does have a_ way _of making those little comments that serve to make one wonder..._

Taking a sip of her drink in spite of her adamant belief that it's the culprit of the blush she can feel creeping up her throat, she plays the blonde at her own game.

"Well, I suppose there _has_ always been a spark between us, yes; call it wistful murderous fantasy, and whatever _you_ get out of the situation, but it does make spending time with you _interesting_ as well as insufferable, dear."

"I-"

"-And, you know, I have to ask... You make so many of those little, flirtatious remarks; I wonder if perhaps I should be worried?"

"If you consider _that_ flirting, then yes, you should probably be worried."

Emma grins, but the Mayor is not so easily deterred.

"I _call_ it as I see it, Sheriff. Taken by themselves, your comments could be considered a little odd, a little _crude_ , but then I believe you are the embodiment of _both_ , and so I shouldn't find myself all that surprised... It's not just what you _say_ , though. It's _how_ you say it, and how you _look_ at me when you say it. You _flirt_ with me, dear, there's no other word for it."

"That's a bit rich coming from the Queen of making everything sound unnecessarily sexual!"

"I'm the Queen of _many_ things, but that which you accuse me of is entirely accidental, I assure you. Perhaps it's wishful thinking..."

" _Or_ , perhaps it's that you word things like you're scripting high-brow _porn_ some of the time."

"I wouldn't know... And you're deflecting. We were discussing _your_ habits, not mine. Ever since I've _known_ you, you've slipped in the odd remark here and there that's caught me, admittedly, by surprise. Since the breaking of The Curse and our relationship becoming... Cordial... The frequency with which you slide in flirtatious obscurities has increased _measurably_... Then you go and make a comment- an admission- as you did about bullying little girls to disguise your interest, and I just find myself _curious_ , dear..."

"That was an awful lot of words to ask a relatively simple question."

Emma muses, crunching a sliver of ice between her teeth before she looks up and shrugs; confiding cryptically

"I told you; you don't know much about me. Not the casual, everyday stuff a friend might know."

"Perhaps not, but I'd always presumed-"

"-Exactly."

The blonde interrupts, and Regina raises a brow as she considers this pointed accusation and shakes her head.

"Alright, I'll admit I have allowed negative bias to dictate some of my opinions about you in the past. Perhaps in the _present_ , also. But, in this case, I merely put the pieces together; you're my son's mother and I do not believe him to be the product of immaculate conception! You were all _over_ Graham-"

"-For fuck's sake, I told you-"

"-That you were doing so to get to me. I know... I just sometimes find myself wondering what you _mean_ by that... And let's not pretend you took _any_ issue with your rather _intimate_ motorcycle rides with August."

"Okay, come _on_ , the guy has been low-key _stalking_ me for most of my life!"

"So? You didn't know about any of the dirty details until a couple of months ago; you simply enjoyed having him between your legs. For _safety,_ I'm sure."

"Well, it would have been kind of hard to ride shotgun any _other_ way... And so what if I _did_? I feel like you're trying to make a point, but you're doing a terrible job of _getting_ there. Not _all_ of us want to stick to just _one_ choice every time when there's a whole menu to be tried, Madame Mayor... As for my comments you claim to be my way of _flirting_ with you; if you _minded_ , you should have said!"

"Like that would do anything _other_ than invite a hundred times worse!"

"If I honestly thought I made you uncomfortable, I wouldn't do it."

Emma insists firmly, and Regina nips at her bottom lip as she considers her companion pensively and supposes she knows she's telling her the truth.

"So?... Should I stop?"

The blonde prompts, sipping at her gin as she waits for _should_ be a simple answer.

 _Except it isn't. It_ would _be simple if she minded, or just didn't want you messing with her the way you do. Only, I'm not so sure that she_ does _mind, but to admit that would be dangerous._

"Miss Swan, I learned long ago that telling you what to do is a waste of breath, time and energy."

"... Okay. Not hearing a _no_ there, and-"

"-Your comments, while juvenile, do me no harm."

Regina shrugs as though there's little more to say on the matter, and she catches a slight frown from Emma as this now leaves them in a rather strange place.

More _than strange!_

And, she _could_ say something else to either steer their conversation away from dangerous innuendo and veiled meaning- she _could_ just nip it in the bud altogether!- but Emma's menu analogy has left her curious, and while the logical side of her brain groans at her to shut up and dismiss the Sheriff before things get out of control, her hand lifts her glass back to her lips seemingly of its own accord, and when she _does_ speak, she neither calls the younger woman out nor sends her on her way.

"No, your little comments do me no harm... In fact, apart from telling me that he liked my dress, Chris had very little else to _offer_ in the sly little comment department. I was _almost_ offended."

"You _should_ be... _I_ have _plenty_ more to offer, and I don't even stand a chance to get laid tonight... Right?"

"Mm... Well, why don't you refill the ice, dear, and perhaps you might amuse me with a _sample_ of what you have to offer... Sly little comments that is."

"... Gladly."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The end! Thanks for joining me on this little journey :) It's been a nice break writing this from the grittier smut/ angst of THESE DARK PATHS, but I will be getting back to that shortly if you were waiting on an update! I hope you enjoy this final scene as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks for reading and please review!

Once she reaches the safety of the kitchen, the Sheriff's calm resolve crumbles and she places the near-empty ice-bowl on the counter with a shaking hand as she runs the other distractedly through her hair.

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!_

She's torn between wanting to laugh hysterically and screaming, and she opts for a safe medium as she pulls open the door to the freezer and stands for a moment with her head inside to try and quell the hot flush she can feel colouring her cheeks.

_What in the hell just happened?!_

She's not entirely sure, she just knows she'd been counting on Regina to call her bluff before things got out of hand.

Were _you bluffing, though?_

She frowns as she supposes 'bluffing' isn't really the right term of phrase. She'd meant everything she'd said- everything insinuated- during their obscure conversation, but their relationship is a troubled one at best, and she would never have believed the Mayor might agree and play along!

 _Unless_ she's _the one bluffing..._

Her brow furrows deeper; considering this possibility uneasily as she wouldn't put it past the brunette to find amusement in making her look like a fool.

_What has she got to gain, though? She's hardly playing an innocent hand right now..._

Not able to conceive of any way that leading her on might benefit the Queen without causing a fair bit of embarrassment for herself in the process, Emma swallows; if anything, blushing harder.

"You're _really_ about to go there with Regina Fucking _Mills_?!"

She hisses as she pulls the bag of ice from the freezer and shakes a generous helping out into the bowl.

_Well, I guess that sort of depends on Her Majesty..._

Without a doubt, and this realisation makes her just a little nervous. She is used to taking the reigns more often than not when it comes to activities of a more risqué nature, but she knows the way things work between them and that she's going to have to play things by ear rather than make the rules purely to suit herself.

"I guess we'll just see what happens..."

She mutters, taking in a deep breath as she composes herself before padding back towards the drawing-room.

"You took your time."

Regina welcomes her back silkily, and Emma smirks as she pushes aside her nerves and replies calmly

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were timing me. Had I known I'd be so sorely _missed_ , I'd have hurried."

She smiles sweetly as she basks in the darker woman's irritable glower.

"Yes... Well."

The Mayor clears her throat, and silence ensues that feels dangerously heavy.

Worried that things might take a turn now that they have each been given a moment to consider the insanity of the situation, Emma goes promptly about refilling their glasses before settling back against the sofa cushions and testing the water; playing it safe for now as she keeps well within the boundaries of the Queen's comfort zone.

"You really _do_ look nice, you know. And I'm not saying that _just_ to be _sly_. I'm sorry your date didn't have a whole lot more to say... Maybe he was just intimidated."

"Maybe... Are _you_?"

Regina replies curiously, meeting the blonde's gaze as the younger woman considers this question with the seriousness so often denied when they bicker.

"...A little. You _are_ quite intimidating, _particularly_ when you don't actually _mean_ to be. When you put on your whole malevolent _bitch_ persona, it's annoying, but it doesn't really intimidate me. If anything, it just makes me want to push back and piss you off."

"Yes... I'd noticed."

"You still _do_ it though."

"Not as much as before... And, I would be _lying_ if I said I don't sometimes enjoy winding you up, or rather... That I don't enjoy watching you get _flustered_ and _angry_ with me. I enjoy that part, as well as the happy side-effect of knowing that I'm ruining your day... I've given a lot of people a great many _reasons_ to be angry with me, Miss Swan, but as we previously discussed, there are ways of being and of acting when part of a certain social class that dictate how one expresses their displeasure. Most of my run-ins have been with the elite. With royalty or those within castle walls... You have a _rawness_ to you, a _bitterness_ to you, that speaks of _danger_ rather than the battle of words I've grown used to. Your threats aren't grand, and your anger isn't put forth as the dramatic display I favour myself; it's _gritty_ , and it's _ugly_... I've grown to like that, I suppose."

"... Likewise. I've learned to expect a smack, a punch, a shove. A brawl that, _yes_ , can get ugly. Your preference for causing a scene and showering me with some really quite _fantastic_ insults and threats... It's weirdly refreshing. Unbelievably _irritating_ at times, but... I always come back for more, so you do the math."

"You do."

"You're intimidating in _other_ ways, though. _Good_ ways. You're confident and assertive."

"You're rather assertive _yourself,_ dear!"

"... I'm defensive."

Emma corrects, and Regina raises a brow as she scoffs

"Oh, so you finally _agree_ with me on that!"

"I never _disagreed_ , I just wasn't about to back down and stand for your shit!... I _am_ defensive though, I _know_ I am. I have plenty of _reason_ to be. It's served me well- better than being a doormat would ever have done- but it's not quite the same as being self-assured the way _you_ carry yourself. What confidence I have comes across cold and unfriendly... Neither of those is exactly _untrue_ , but it's a little less appealing than being regal and alluring."

"Just a little."

"You're complex. I get intimidated around you sometimes because you're not just _one_ thing, which would make it easier to know how to deal with you. A lot of the time, I really don't _know_ how to deal with you, but because of our crazy set of circumstances, I haven't been able to simply walk away, and sometimes you make me nervous. I don't _know_ why, and it isn't like me at all, but you do. That, and you're _stupidly_ attractive, and, much as I like to pretend I'm smarter than to get distracted by that kind of thing, it turns out I'm not. Not always. In all honesty, sometimes I'll argue with you when I'm really not especially _bothered_ by whatever fanciful claim you've decided is one hundred per cent true, just because you get all up in my face, and yours is a nice face to look at."

The blonde shrugs, blushing slightly, but nowhere near as darkly as the Mayor who takes a long drink from her glass.

"...And here I thought you were just insufferably stubborn and rather stupid..."

The brunette muses quietly.

"Well, I mean, there can be more than _one_ reason for things."

Emma chuckles, and Regina licks her lips before replying honestly

"You're not stupid. You're _many_ things, but not stupid."

"That's okay. You'll think of other names to call me."

The younger woman consoles her with a grin; surprised when the Queen simply nods without any further retaliation as her cheeks glow with a warm flush. Adopting a rather more sinister smirk, Emma asks boldly

"So, how am I doing for sly little comments so far?"

"Passably."

Regina sniffs dismissively, before running her finger pensively over the rim of her glass and looking back up to offer the blonde a small smile.

"You know, I honestly can't remember the last time someone said something nice to me."

"That's... I mean, I know we argue, but I'm not usually, like, _mean_ to you. And Henry-"

"-No, I know, but that's not what I meant... It's been a long time since anyone complimented me so openly without me telling them to do so, or without having an ulterior motive."

"Well... I mean..."

"It's not an _ulterior_ motive when I know what your motive _is_ , dear."

The brunette smirks, and Emma raises a brow, before reasoning softly

"Doesn't mean I'm not telling you the truth. And, shit, I would have told you you were hot _ages_ ago if I'd known you were so _desperate_ to hear it!"

"Careful, Sheriff..."

Regina warns dangerously, before settling back further against the sofa cushions and crossing her legs in a way that causes her dress to ride up considerably.

"You can tell me _now_..."

"Hmm?"

"Well, that was a rather off-the-cuff statement... Almost _throwaway_ , really. I'm not sure that counts."

She muses, and Emma bites at her lip as she tries to suppress a grin; eyes glittering with teasing good-humour as they lock with the Mayor's own.

"You want me to tell you you're hot?"

"I mean, I'd _rather_ you didn't word it as though you were a teenage boy, but then, I'm aware of the company I'm keeping and I suppose expectations shouldn't be _too_ high."

"Mm... You're lucky you're pretty."

The blonde hisses.

"Well, that's not _worse_ , but it's not much _better_ , either."

Regina sighs dramatically, and the younger woman laughs, before adopting a much darker expression and pushing herself up from the sofa. Taking up a seat beside the brunette, she simply sips at her drink with her gaze cast to the heavy curtains; waiting to see if her change in position will be met with a reaction. When Regina simply swallows- audibly- but remains otherwise composed, Emma places her glass down slowly on the table, before turning to the Queen and reaching out to find her jaw; green eyes finding brown, before leaning in to brush her lips slowly against the Mayor's. Deepening their kiss and offering the brunette's bottom lip a gentle tug as the darker woman remains sat rigidly still, she pulls back and pushes her hair out of her face as she considers her companion curiously.

"Any further questions as to what I might think of you?"

She asks, watching the rise and fall of the brunette's chest as Regina stares down at the coffee table with a slightly stunned expression.

"No... I think I got what I needed."

The Mayor replies huskily, looking over at Emma with a blend of intrigue and surprise.

"You're hot."

The blonde assures her quietly, and the Queen smiles slowly as her gaze remains fixated on the younger woman's lips.

"Are you sure you don't need any further data before you settle on that conclusion?"

She asks suggestively, and Emma grins as she reminds the brunette impishly

"Hmmm... I'm just super aware that you only asked for a _sample_ , so-"

But her words are cut off when Regina kisses her forcefully; one hand holding the blonde firmly in place so that she may taste the gin on her tongue, the other finding Emma's wrist and guiding her hand pointedly down to rest on the bare flesh of her thigh.

Finding the Mayor's gaze once the darker woman is forced to pull back for air, the Sheriff holds her captive silently as she drinks in the hunger glittering in dark coals, before taking the hint; pushing herself up so that she kneels over the brunette dominantly while her hand slips up beneath her dress, no longer playing games. She runs her fingers experimentally up the damp satin covering the darker woman's sex, before pulling black underwear slowly down slender thighs when Regina's only reaction to her intimate progression is to fall back against the cushions and with a shiver. Slipping down from the sofa to kneel between the Mayor's feet, Emma offers Regina a swift glance to make sure they're on the same page, before taking heed of the small nod the Queen offers her as she moves a little in her seat to allow her dress to ride higher and thus her legs to spread wider.

"Oh..."

Regina breathes as the Sheriff enters her with a slow dip of her fingers before leaning in to follow suit with her tongue. Bringing her hands down to play through heavy curls, she closes her eyes as the blonde increases her speed; guiding her with variable roughness as she closes her fists.

"Yes..."

She urges, slipping a little further down the sofa to meet the delicious thrust of the younger woman's fingers, feeling herself approaching the edge with alarming speed as it's been quite some time since she was last tended to as Emma does now. Still, she holds on for as long as she can; torn between her desire for sweet release and wanting to savour the feeling of bliss and excitement as long as she is able.

"Fuck!"

She groans when she feels she has reached the point of no return, and she tugs at pale curls roughly before keeping the blonde clutched firmly in place as her thighs tremble and she comes totally undone.

Panting softly, she holds them that way for a moment longer as her sex flutters and her hands shake, before carefully retracting her fingers from mussed tresses and allowing the Sheriff to catch some air.

"Fuck."

She repeats quietly as Emma pushes up onto her feet and makes her way back to sit on the sofa across from her. Finally opening her eyes, Regina studies the blonde silently as the younger woman sets to work fixing herself another drink with a remarkably calm expression. Looking up; aware that she's being watched, Emma points to the Mayor's glass as she wipes delicately at her cheeks.

"More ice?"

She asks sweetly, and Regina nods, trying to slow her breathing as she watches the blonde pour her some more gin before sipping silently at her drink; the younger woman's own breathing a little frantic and her throat flushed. Leaning forward to reach for her glass, the Mayor continues to study her guest while pulling her dress back down into a more appropriate position.

"... I do have them."

She states finally, and Emma looks up at her curiously

"Have what?"

" _Thoughts_ sometimes... 'Friendly' thoughts, as you so inaccurately put it..."

Regina admits, and the blonde raises a brow before offering the darker woman a smile.

"Thought so... This probably hasn't helped!"

She grins a little sheepishly, and the brunette sips at her drink before chuckling hoarsely.

"As far as putting a stop to indecent slips of the imagination? Probably not!... Has it helped in _other_ ways?... Well..."

She smirks down at her glass as Emma laughs quietly.

"That guy was an idiot."

The blonde muses finally, and Regina runs her finger pensively over her lips as she watches the younger woman's throat work when she takes a sip.

"I suppose... Although given that the lack of interest was mostly on _my_ part, I suppose we shouldn't judge too harshly."

"He should have tried harder given what was on offer."

Emma shrugs, blushing when the brunette appears to drink her in with a slow smile in response to this statement.

"Like _you_ , you mean?"

Regina teases, and before the blonde can chip in whatever grievance she might have in retaliation, the Mayor continues

"Personally, I find our somewhat messy struggle to find common ground between us has been worth it, dear."

"Yeah, it _sounded_ that way."

Emma smirks, and the darker woman narrows her eyes but offers a sly flicker of a smile, before elaborating

"I don't just mean what happened tonight. I _know_ I'm hard on you, and I know a lot of our interactions have been less than pleasant. I'll admit I often take an active role in keeping them that way, whereas your own is passive and can't really be helped given that my irritation stems _largely_ from your mere existence... I know I still have a fair way to go in how I can behave towards you sometimes, but I am _trying_ , just as you have been for quite some time now with me... I, too, sometimes find you intimidating, Miss Swan."

"You do?"

"Sometimes."

Regina reiterates sternly.

"...It's because I'm _also_ stupidly attractive, isn't it?"

Emma jokes, and the brunette raises a brow as she holds the Sheriff's gaze but says nothing; simply allowing the younger woman a secretive little smile. Finally, she breaks eye-contact, finishing her drink with a glance up at the clock and changing the subject with an air of loosely-veiled dismissal.

"Keep the sweater, dear. Really... It looks nice on you."

* * *

"So, how was your date?"

Henry yawns as he shuffles into the kitchen in his pyjamas. Looking up from her coffee, Regina smiles and replies pensively

"It was... Fine. Not quite what I expected."

"Uhoh! Not as good as you hoped?"

" _Better_ , actually..."

Well, that's good!"

The boy grins as he helps himself to some cereal. Dousing his Cheerio's with milk, he looks back up at his mother and asks curiously

"Do you think you'll go out again?"

"Mm... I suppose that depends on if Miss Swan agrees to babysit."

"She will."

Henry replies confidently.

"Yes... I believe so, too."


End file.
